We're Getting There, Lovino
by jerybones
Summary: Some extras for "Are We There Yet, Antonio?" of the lovely travellers stumbling through more alternate worlds! Technically the story is finished, because these are just some extra scenes to stick in the middle! Enjoy at your own will!
1. Buckets of Blood

Heyllo! I'm baaaaack~ With some extra chapters that can be stuck into the middle of _Are We There Yet, Antonio?_! Because there were soooo many people just beggin' me to do so (well, only one of yous but that's good enough for me) and because messin' with people is fun. You should probably read _Are We There Yet_ first but hey, your choice!

Oh yes, and, these are probably going to be a whole lot shorter than the other ones already were. Eh.

So again, I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia or it's characters, just this weird idea of mine! Oh, and if you catch any references I make, well, good for you! If you don't, that's fine too!

* * *

><p>Ya know a colour that was really starting to get on Lovino's nerves? Red. Red, red, red. Because that was all he could see right now. A swirling tunnel of fucking <em>red<em>. He hated red. He wanted to kill red. He wanted to destroy anything and everything red from the wo- from _all _worlds. Upon realizing what he just thought, he wished that tomatoes were blue.

Not even turning around to check on Antonio, Lovino braced himself for the coming impact.

Sure enough, it came; Lovino and Antonio landed on the expected patch of grass. It was a front lawn, but of somebody's house. A very familiar looking house...

Grunting and cursing, Lovino stood up and brushed himself off, spitting on the dirt spitefully before holding out a hand to help his Spanish lover off the ground. As soon as the two had their wits gathered, Antonio said, "Well, that was.. indifferent." True; it seemed tha- okay, now I'm not really sure how to explain this dude's thoughts.

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Whatever, bastard. Agh, dammit, where are we now?" They both looked back to the large, well-kept house. It looked nice enough. Lovino didn't really feel like describing it, so we'll skip the details, but the point is: it was a house.

Antonio, however, spent an extra moment staring at the house. Turning back to Lovino, he asked curiously, "You don't recognize this place?"

"No, of course I don't, dipshit! If I did, I wouldn't be fucking asking you where we are, would I?" Lovino huffed at the Spaniard's stupidity.

"Lovino.. this is Austria's house."

"...What? As in, that snooty-cheapo Austria?" He looked back at the house, studying it.

"Si. Er, n- well, at least say it nicer, Lovi. But anyways; this is where your brother lived while I took you in. Don't you remember?"

Lovino stayed silent, racking his brain for some memories of this. It seemed right but he obviously didn't care enough to remember it. He vaguely remembered the times when he and his fratello were about two feet tall and wore girls' dresses.. for some odd reason that he never cared to ask. "Oh. That. Well."

"Ah, yes, the old days. You were so small and cute back then, Lovi; with your little dress and adorable pout that made me want to eat you up just like a tomato-" Antonio paused with a thoughtful look on is face.

"Shaddup," Lovino deadpanned, "high-fiving" Antonio's face. Antonio giggled and expertly pulled Lovino into a hug without getting hit (too much). He nuzzled his face in Lovino's shoulder, cooing, "You're so _cute_, Lovinito~"

SMACK.

Five seconds later, the two are seperated from each other; Antonio is rubbing the sore spot on his face, and Lovino is huffing and pouting. "As I was saying," the Italian snarled as they snuck around to the back to see if anyone was there, "Why the hell would we be at Austria's house, of all places?"  
>As if on cue, a male voice began shouting from inside of the house, followed by what appeared to be a squeal. There was a second's silence before angry - <em>pissed<em>, in Lovino's terms - piano music could be heard. The music gripped at the two travellers' very souls, sending shivers down their spines. Before anything else, the two could hear the door handle being turned, meaning someone was going to walk out and see them.

Antonio snapped out of his musical reverie and grabbed Lovino's collar, pulling him behind a bush. "What the-" Lovino cried before Antonio's hand clamped over his mouth. Once hidden, Lovino tore the Spaniard's hand off and whispered fiercely, "Since when have we cared if someone was coming?"

"Just shh!"

The two watched as a little girl stumbled out of the house. A very familiar little girl-

"Fratello?" Lovino said incredulously. "He's.. teeny."

Antonio hurriedly tried to wipe off his nose with his shirt without Lovino noticing. The Italian scowled at the red-stained fabric. "Eh.. si. He is, isn't he?" he attemped to sound casual, but his voice was slipping towards his "Aw, You're So Cute!" cooing tone.

"Pedo," Lovino muttered, turning back to his little brother. (Ahaha. 'Little'! It's a pun! ..Kinda.)

The little auburn-haired maid scuttled around the courtyard, using her- his- little deck brush to sweep. She- he- was completely unaware of the three sets of eyes watching her. Him, dammit.

Yes, three.

As Antonio continued staring at little Italy (and his nose bled like Niagara Falls), Lovino caught a flash of blue over by the house. There, in the window, was a set of eyes, also peeping on his fratello. It was a young boy, Italy's size, with blonde hair, a monster sized hat-thing, and a strawberry blush creeping up his face. _Little punk_, Lovino said in his mind. _Thought he was slick.  
><em>  
>Lovino didn't think anything else of the little peeper and checked on Antonio. No change. He thumped the back of Antonio's head ("Ayayae! You <em>thumped<em>me!") and hissed, "Okay. I get it. He's cute as a fucking buttf- button; now get the shit outta your head and help me think up a way to get us to- Aw, crap it!" Antonio had now started drooling, and the glazed look in his eyes as he stared at the distressed young Italy made Lovino want to kill the man right there and then put on a show with the corpse worthy enough to give Hungary a heart attack. Eh, he had mixed emotions occasionally. But anyways.

"HEY. ASSFACE. WE NEED TO FIND-" "Ssh!"

Lovino froze. Did.. Did he just.. Did Antonio just shush him with an angry - _pissed!_ - expression on his face, fire in his eyes, passion flowing out from his soul-  
>Lovino saw how it was. He saw. He could feel it, too. He was unwanted. Unwanted. Well, if Antonio felt that way-<p>

He was just going to have to kick him in the balls, slice up his body, burn it all to sexy ashes and use his bones for soup.

Lovino was just about to cry out, "LOVINO _CHOP!_" and _chop_ his head in two when Antonio, who knew him all too well, expertly poked Lovino's curl in _just_the right spot to shut him up.

"Ssh!" he whispered as Lovino sank like jelly. "Oh, Lovi, I'm sorry; I didn't mean it like that. But look!" He pointed in the direction of little Italy. Lovino looked and gasped. What in the fucking hell is-

Sparkles and glittery mist were swirling around the small figure, though she - _he_- didn't even seem to notice. Indeed, the swirls were getting bigger, faster, and sparklier by the second. It was like a tornado, although it didn't really seem to be affecting anything except the world travellers' minds.

Yes, dear readers. The pure cuteness of little Chibitalia was causing the surrounding magic in the air to overreact as it danced a heavenly upbeat tune around the attracting source of angelic innocence that was Italy. My heart is pumping, and I'm sure yours is too.

Without even speaking, Antonio and Lovino just seemed to know what to do. So without further ado, the two leapt up from the bush, running at the magic while reciting the cursed spell in their heads.

The Spaniard and the Italian jumped and dived headfirst into the sparkles, dissappearing with a poof!.

Startled and confused at two men - not to mention, one of them looked like his fratello - jumping out at him and vanishing in thin air, Italy stopped and stared before getting distracted by a butterfly and forgetting this event forever.

Holy Roman Empire, who witnessed the whole thing, also froze in shock. Suddenly something snuck up behind him, a tall figure in a dark cloak, who deadpanned: "He has seen too much." And so-

* * *

><p>Ahaha. Oh, and also: please feel free to make suggestions of where Lovino and Antonio shall be sent next! I've got a couple of brainfarty ideas but the more the merrier! Lovage!<p>

(...what the hell? 'lovage'... i dont know where the frick that came from...)

EDIT: Oh and I de- well, I don't apologize about the title.


	2. I Think I'm Allergic

Round and round and round Antonio-and-Lovino-in-the-red-swirling-world-of-magical-fairy-dust goes. Where they'll stop, nobody knows!

It felt like any other trip until Lovino began to feel a change in him. No, not like the fucking Grinch; his body was physically changing. Shrinking, to be exact. Freaked, he tried to whirl around to check on his Spanish friend, but moving around in zero gravity was proving to be too hard for his new, small body. (Just because the author wanted to see them suffer.) Finally, Lovino could see the white light at the end of the tunnel, signalling the end of this retarded coaster ride. He let out a scream- or at least, he tried to. You wouldn't believe how flustered he was when he heard a very strong and panicked "Meow" instead.

They landed before Lovino could think anything else. They fell onto a patch of grass. Of could practically hear a squeak as they hit the ground. Strangely, when Lovino got up, he could only go as far as four legs. Standing up properly was imposible without falling back down. He then realized that he had paws. Fucking paws. He was covered in fur. He had a tail. It.. It fucking moves.

He whirled around to see Antonio discovering himself also. With an amused look, he studied his paws and tail. He sniffed the air and looked around, his green eyed landing on his lover staring at him incredulously. How could he not be freaking out? Lovino wondered.  
>They were cats. Felines, kitties, neko, des chats, cats. Fur, tail, whiskers, and all. Lovino was scared outta his mind. And Antonio was licking his-<p>

"Spain!" Lovino tried to screech. It, of course, came out as a 'meow'.  
>The brown cat looked over at him and mewed something in response.<br>Lovino's ears could only hear a series of cat noises, but something in the back of his mind translated it into: "Oh! Lovi, look! We're cats!"  
>"Thank you, Captain Obvious."<br>"You mean, Cat-tain Obvious!" Lovino stared at him, unamused.  
>"Are you serious? We're fucking cats here, and you're making jokes? They could at least be good jokes, but noo, stupid fucking tomato thing is too distracted by licking his balls to think up something useful-"<p>

Antonio let Lovino ramble on (basically it was all making a big deal out of being cat-ified and about Antonio being an idiot) like he usually does and waited until he was finished. When he did, Antonio said, "Lovi, relax. It's just another dimension! Maybe everyone here are cats. And besides, who doesn't want to be a cat?" He was pretty sure the line from that one Disney movie went something like that. "And also, this will probably make negotiating with Arthur easier. If he is a cat, I don't think it would be too easy communicating with each other if we're human, si?"  
>Lovino didn't believe a word but calmed down anway. He didn't need more time wasted by that idiot trying to do his retarded 'Calming Spell' on him.<br>Together, they set off through the field to find someone who could help them. Antonio was busy yapping about something or - something or other - and Lovino was occasionally throwing in an incredulous "che" or swear.

Tout â coup, a blonde cat pounced out to them, landing noticably gracefully (even for a cat). "Miau! Miiau mieu me miau mieu mieu!"  
>Translation: "Meow! Why, if it isn't Romeowno and Spaingato!" (..idk.)<br>Antonio had the feeling he should know who this was, but wasn't getting any ideas. "Ah.. Hey!.. you..."  
>Lovino stared incredulously at his lover. As if the rose covering his kitty berries didn't give it away?<br>France-cat didn't notice a thing. "Well, I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" he asked scandalously. As if he actually cared. "Ahonhonhon, carry on, my lovely lovey lovers!" He strutted off back into the bushes with the plan of spying on them before being called back by the Italian tabby. "Hey! Wait!"

"Oui?"  
>Lovino quickly muttered to Antonio, "It's Francis, stupid," before talking back to the awaiting Frenchcat. "Where's England?"<br>"Pardon? You wish to go to Angleterre?"  
>"Dammit. Where's.. Arthur?"<br>"I am sorry; I know no one by that name."  
>"Cosa-" Lovino growled. "What's your name?"<br>"Franchat." Pernounced: Fran-shah.  
>"And our names."<br>"Romeowno and Spaingato."  
>Lovino hoped someone would just shoot him in the head. "Then where's.. Englandcat."<p>

"Damn. Er.. Hey, you're not helping here, Tonio."  
>"Eh? Oh, um.. Er.." There were a few moments of silence as Antonio tried to come up with something.<br>"Goddammit," Lovino cried. "Eyebrows! Where the hell is the Brit with the monster Eyebrows?"  
>"Ahh, Englandcat." Romano just stared increulously. Did he not just-? "Most likely hanging out with Americat. Por quoi est-ce que tu as besoin de lui?"<br>"I don't speak pervert, froggy," Lovino deadpanned, even though he did understand quite a bit of French. All the same, Lovino was ignored.

"Weeeeell-" Antonio started off. Lovino realized that if he let his lover proceed to talk then they would be there for hours. He couldn't stand another freeking minute. So he leapt over and scratched Antonio's hindleg, interrupting him with, "None of your fucking business. Where is he."  
>"I have said, with Am-"<br>"Where?"  
>"...at the House?"<br>Lovino felt like facepalming. "And where is that?"  
>"Behind you."<p>

Lovino whipped around, Antonio doing the same, and indeed they both saw a house. Oh. It didn't look like anybody lived there, but it wasn't inhabitable. In fact, there was a faint sound of lots of meowing emanating from the house. Lovino ran off, not even thanking Franchat, Antonio skidding off behind him. Although, Antonio did look back and meow at the cat version of his friend in gratitude. The message was recieved and the Spanish cat sprinted to keep up with Lovino.  
>The two slipped inside through an open window to find what appeared to be a kitty party. Yes. A party.<p>

Cats were everywhere; strolling around or lying picturesquely on a piece of furniture. There was what seemed to be a food area over to the side where cats were chowing down on Whiskas, lapping up milk and getting high off of catnip. Cats could be caught licking another's fur or playing around; Antonio was squealing from the cuteness. The meowing was unbearable; though it was even worse because it was being repeated and translated in Lovino's head. As if the real people weren't bothersome enough.

Immediately they caught sight of a blonde kitty, lying leisurely on a chesterfield lapping up what appeared to be tea from a small cup in front of him. How a cat prepared himself a cup of tea was beyond the travelers, but they approached the cat anyways.  
>The cat had an annoyed expression on it's face, identifying it only as England. Another cat - with a particularly fluffy band of fur around his chest - was yapping to England while strutting around importantly on the floor in front of England with his tail high. This could only be America.<br>"Meow - and then, the hero who is obviously me would - meow meow meow - save the damsel in distress, which is you - meow meow - from that evil Commie-cat and we'd live meowily ever after!"

The English cat stared down at the American and promptly dumped what was left of his tea onto his friend. (If I can call it that. Which I probably can't.)  
>America yelped and instinctively ran away, much to England's delight.<br>"Ah," he purred, "Finally. He's gone."  
>"Hey!" Lovino called up angrily.<br>England frowned. Yes, he did. And he sighed. "Here we go again," he muttered.  
>"Hey, listen u-"<br>"WHAT DOES A CAT HAVE TO DO TO GET A NICE NAP?" the Englishman - cat - cried to the sky.  
>"Yeah, yeah, now just-"<br>"I've been good, haven't I?" England was still talking to the roof.  
>Lovino still didn't care.<br>"Whatever, but-"  
>"What did I do to deserve this hell?"<br>"I don't know or care so just-"  
>"Why can't a cat just be left alone?"<br>"Because you're a shi-"  
>"Namely, me!"<br>"I DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS, JUST-"

"_GO AWAY!_" England roared like a motherfucking lion. The air became as angry as he was and in a flash every cat in there - including Antonio and Lovino - dissappeared, leaving England alone. Just like he wanted.  
>"Ah," he sighed, snuggling into himself and finally drifting off to sleep.<p>

**But we aren't finished yet!**

Our two heroes were successfully shot out into the right spinning hell of red sparkles and shit, but what happened to the rest of the cats?

_In a random house in Japan somewhere at five in the morning:  
><em>The Asian man woke up abruptly. What woke him up? Well...  
>He looked around blearily. "What.. What? Where- Where did all these cats come from? What in the- hey- Hey! N-no! Stay back! I don't have any cat food! Noo! Go away! Ah- AGH! No! S-someone- Someone! Help meeeeeee-"<p>

And they all lived meowily ever after.

* * *

><p>xD Yay for cats! By the way, cat tails fucking <em>echant<em> me. Watching them move... it's creepy. It's like another arm. And about the last part... It was meant to be lovely Mr Hidekaz Himaruya himself, but it doesn't really matter. Oh my God, I'm really messed up.

Remember, feel free to suggest some worlds for Lovi and Toni! (But don't say another anime or something, because let's face it: this ain't a crossover, and I don't feel like it should be. Well, I don't feel like it; period.) Till we meet again! (I'm lame)


	3. Antonio Should Take Notes

The place Antonio and Lovino popped out next was different than all the others. For one, it was nighttime, and empty, giving the two chills. Not even a cricket could be heard annoyingly chirping, or any other kinds of noises for that matter; only the rustling of the wind through the trees. The two blindly stood up and held each other (_Not in a fucking mushy way, you pervert_, Lovino would argue) and looked around. They were in a town centre of some kind; shops and cafes (although all devoid of people) surrounded the rather large flat square of concrete they were standing on. Lovino could have sworn there was some kind of giant symbol on the ground but it was just too damned dark to see.

For some reason mysterious, the place gave the duo constant jitters. Maybe it was the dark, the cold, the desolation, or the hungry pair of eyes watching them. Who knows.

Lovino didn't even have the balls to say something cocky like he normally would. Antonio couldn't even think of squealing and cooing over Lovino like he usually did. The two just silently toughed it out together, both secretly hoping to walk through a door and find a magical happy land of tomatoes and sparkles and unicorns and tomatoes and shit. But unfortunately, that didn't happen.

What did happen is that the "hungry pair of eyes watching them" from before, which were [un?]fortunately connected to an actual person, finally decided to make their move. Stealthily and silently, with the air of someone who was very well practiced, the person crept up from its hiding spot and sneaked over towards the two holding each other tightly. If it weren't for the person doing this very, very often, the person would have outright shrieked with delight; but, the person held her tongue.

Lovino felt a shiver roll down his spine. Frowning, he whispered to Antonio, "Hey. D-"

Suddenly, he heard a distant noise; like someone walking and crunching the leaves. It was short and very hard to hear, but Lovino was sure he had heard it.

"Antonio!" he hissed more urgently, "Did you hear that?"

"Eh.. no."

"Ssh!" Lovino breathed, looking around. There was nothing... that he could see.

Finally, the creeper decided it was him. She leapt out of the shadows, landing just before Lovino and Antonio.

For the travellers, it appeared as if someone had just fallen from the sky and landed right in front of them, and it scared the shit out of them. The sneak laughed in a semi-familiar way that froze Antonio and Lovino. Almost instinctively, Lovino hid behind his lover, covering his privates with his hands; not so much as for protection but for concealment. That laugh usually meant one thing.

Hungary snapped a picture lighting-quick before stashing away the camera and addressing Lovino. "Ohoho, you've been a naughty boy, Mr Vargas. Running away from the Master like that; we've been looking _all_ over for you." As Lovino wondered what the heck she was talking about, Antonio noticed that this Hungary had an odd, glassy look in her eyes. It was not the usual slash-induced glaze, but instead had an empty, mechanical feel. Also, Hungary completely ignored Antonio standing there, which he had to admit, he was not used to. It was like he wasn't even there.

The Spanish man was even further alarmed when Hungary's arm shot out and grabbed Lovino by the dirty collar, dragging him into the shadows while murmuring something about the Master being pleased and allowing her to watch tonight. Lovino yelped and tried to break free, but damn, was this chick strong. Before Antonio could react the two were lost in the darkness.

That infamous 'Spanish passion' exploded inside Antonio and, faster than a cherry tomato is chomped in the mouth of a ravenous turtle, he shot out and reached out for Lovino or that mysterious alien bitch of a Hungarian, but found nothing. Even Lovino's screams and curses had stopped abruptly, and Antonio knew that he was too late. He was alone.

And they had Lovino.

Lovino woke up in a magnificent room. It was brimming with the colour red, and Lovino felt a headache coming on. There was a gigantic bed and the fanciest furniture that Lovino had seen since the good (sucky) old days. On every flat surface, there was a bowl filled with tomatoes. But there was one thing that struck Lovino the most: the symbol in the carpet, and on the walls, and on the bed sheets, and on the cieling, and on just about _everything else_.

It was a golden and scarlet shield with, of all things, a turtle and a bull facing off. A tomato was pictured over their heads. It was bordered with a darker shade of scarlet and black swirls. It sounds gay when you describe it, but it was chilling Lovino to the bone. He realised this must have been the symbol he saw before, in the town centre. It was too dark to see before, but he was sure of it now. The Italian hopped off the extremely cushy bed and stretched his sore limbs quickly.

Then he realised what he was wearing. Or rather, what he _wasn't_ wearing.

Yelping and desperately obscuring his exposed vital regions, he searched around the large room for some clothes. He noticed some very skimpy garments laying on the bed. Like, seriously, I think Arthur's waiter costume covers more skin. Lovino swore and blushed, and hysterically looked around for something _else_ to wear.

Piled up in a corner, hidden by an ornate dresser, Lovino found the clothes he had been wearing. He hastily pulled on his tighty whities (with happy-faced tomatoes on the ass) and grass-stained pants, but didn't have time to get to the soiled white collared shirt before the door (that he had somehow completely missed before) opened. It revealed Hungary and Austria.

They were both wearing scarlet and black uniforms, of a kind; they appeared to be of the traditional outfits of a butler and a maid. The only skin exposed on the both of them were their faces, and one of Hungary's hands. She must have lost the other as she was - collecting - Lovino. As she moved around, Lovino could have sworn he saw a flash of purple under her sleeve.

Lovino blushed but all the same yelled, "HEY! What was the big idea, fucking taking me hostage and knocking me out! You bastards better-"

Austria remained stoic and still as a robot, and Hungary only giggled mechanically. "My, my," she cooed strangely, "You have not been this feisty in a long time, Mr Vargas. Won't the Master be so pleased!"

Austria was still not amused. "Of course, it's doubtful that he will still get off without punishment from the Master. Mr Vargas did, after all, run away."

Hungary tittered. "That's right. But that will just make the Master even more pleased! No, delighted! An excuse for more punishment!"

"As if the Master ever needed an excuse." The two laughed.

Lovino stood there and stared incredulously. What the... What the fuck are they talking about? Who is this 'Master'? Also, there was something about the two that creeped him out to no end. Maybe it was the eerily stiff way that they moved, or the glassy, controlled look in their eyes. But he couldn't say there was no feeling or emotion in their eyes, because there was. It was passion. Devotion.

Without second thought, Austria and Hungary had Lovino by the arms and were carrying him seemingly effortlessly out the door and down the corridor. Lovino thrashed and hollered, but the two didn't seem to be bothered at all. _What are these people? What kind of messed up world is this?_

Antonio was stuck. He had no idea what to do. He was angry. He was scared. He was lost.

He was alone.

He had nearly cried himself shitless, and was still working on it. _Stay strong_, he told himself. _Find Lovino._ He could practically hear his Lovi shouting; _Hey, bastardo! Come and fucking save me, dumbass!_ Oh, how his heart ached without his Lovi.

He was determined to be reunited with his Italian lover. He ran back to the town centre and desperately checked and rechecked all the stores. Nobody was there. No one at all.

As he stopped to take a breather, he noticed a poster on a window. He had seen these posters on pretty much every window, wall, and door he had passed by but only stopped to look at it right then.

It was him.

Hungary and Austria finally stopped. Lovino's jaw dropped as he looked around what he could hardly call a _room_.

Lovino's not really gonna describe all the fancy beautiful shit in this place but he can assure you; this place was a fucking palace. It seemed to be both a throne room and a theatre. It was enormous, and godly, and other nice things like that. There were stands with seats surrounding the middle stage area- ya know, ampitheatre style- but it was all fabulous. Lovino was reminded of his Nonno's Coliseum, but with a lot more red, and a more comfortable stage. On that "stage" was a magnificent throne that could have belonged to Jupiter. (Or something.) The stands were all filled with familiar nations, who had the same blank look as Hungary and Austria, wearing the same type of clothing. As Lovino was dragged onto the floor, he saw who was on the throne.

Lovino froze. It was Spain.

But it wasn't. It had Spain's looks; his eyes and hair and face that he had begrudgingly lov- gotten used to, but that's as far as the similarities went. This Spain looked predatory, overpowering, _hungry_- in a child molester kinda way. His eyes were flaming and his smirk was chilling. His posture showed that he dominated; he owned this effing place. He snickered gleefully as he saw Lovino being brought in. His fingers twitched with anticipation. This scary man was far from Lovino's Spain. But Lovino found it extraordinarily sexy.

Then Lovino realised; this wasn't just Spain. This was the Master.

Lovino didn't even notice that he was free from Hungary and Austria's grip, but was now shackled into handcuffs that were chained to the throne. He couldn't run away.

Spain tutted. "Lovi, Lovi, Lovi." Lovino's teeth clenched. "How disapointed I am. Running away from me when we were scheduled to have some _fun_. I couldn't find you anywhere in my palace. It is almost as if you didn't want to play." The audience tittered. "Almost as if you didn't want to _play_ anymore." You know that "Kolkolkol" thing Russia does and everyone shits their pants? Yeah. Spain just topped that.

_They think I'm their Romano. _Despite being ready to melt into a jiggly puddle of Italian, Lovino wasn't going to give in. "I don't know who you are, or what the hell you're talking about, but there's no way in fucking hell that I'd ever play shit with you, bastard." To finish it off, he spit at Spain's feet. The Master's smile only grew wider.

"Mmm. Fiery, just like you used to be. Tell me, Lovi-"

"Don't you fucking call me Lovi."

Spain chuckled darkly. "Si, my little toy. Now tell me, _Mr Vargas_, what you have done while on your- vacation." He said 'vacation' like it was a joke that he found really funny. "You are so much more lively than you were before you ran away." When Lovino growled, Spain only laughed. "Now, now, my tomate! I do not find that a bad thing. In fact, I think it's absolutely wonderful. What do you think, Miss Hedervary?"

Hungary excitedly rose from her seat to reply, "I think it is wonderful also, Master!"

Spain nodded. "Yes. Thank you, my dear." Hungary looked like she was struggling not to squeal with joy as she curtsied and sat back down.

"And you, Mr Vargas?" Everyone looked at the Italian expectantly. Lovino said something so badass that only he and Chuck Norris could ever repeat it ever again. Spain laughed. He couldn't mock him by repeating it, but he laughed.

"And what is with those ridiculously disheveled clothes?" Lovino remembered that he wasn't wearing a shirt, but something told him there were bigger things to worry about. Like how Spain was scrutinizing his shirtlessness. He was super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot, Lovino knew, but he didn't like the way the Spanish creep was eyeing him.

The Master sat there in his throne, studying Lovino with a creepily sentimental smile on his face. "What are you staring at, assfuck? Piss off!"

Spain stayed silent as he stood up and strutted towards Lovino. He circled him like a predator studying his prey. Lovino wished he could punch him but he was still shackled to the throne. And since when were his fucking legs chained together?

"That was an interesting name you called me just now," Spain purred down his neck. "'Assfuck'."

With a wave of Spain's fingers the handcuffs were undone _(Jeez, he's got magical powers, too?)_ along with Lovino's pants, which slid to the ground. Lovino spazzed but his bare arms were stuck in Spain's iron grip. The audience seemed to know what was going to happen and leaned out of their seats, frenzied.

"Why yes, my darling; I would like to fuck your ass."

Antonio stood there in shock. This was scary. He never knew he, himself, could look so scary.

_The Master_, it said at the bottom of the poster. _The Master? What does that mean?_

Antonio heard a rustling in the bushes to his far left. It was hard not to, in the eerily silent night. He whirled around and caught a glimpse of a person running away, hair curl bobbing in his haste. Without even thinking, he sped off after the person, who he was sure was Lovino.

But why was he running away?

SLAP.

The sound resounded off the walls of the room. It was silent as a funeral. Lovino instantly hoped it wouldn't end up that way. But this guy was _such_ a _dick!_

"What the- What the hell is wrong with you?" Lovino wasn't even sure what came out of his mouth but he knew it was bad, just as it should have been. He kept a steady stream of insults and exclaimations spewing from his mouth, directed at Spain, the audience, and at his world's Arthur also.

Spain had a conflicted expression on his face, as if he was trying hard not to strangle Lovino right then. He wanted to kill this little fucker! Murder him! Punish him! Oh yes; Mr Vargas must be punished.

Giddy with the sick thoughts of things he was going to do to Lovino, he discarded his kingly robes and threw off his crown, which clattered noisily in the corner as it landed. It was enough to catch Lovino's attention. He waved his hand again and Lovino was on the floor, arms and legs sprawled out. His limbs felt like lead, and were too heavy to fucking move.

Spain laughed maniacally as he fell down to his knees, straddling Lovino, and slipped off Lovino's underwear in a no-nonsense fashion. Shit was going to get done, dammit.

Lovino was a hair's width away from sobbing uncontrollably. _What the fuck do I do now? Antonio, where are you?_ He shivered as Spain played with him. Spain kissed him roughly and slapped him, getting an enamoured cry from the audience. For them, the game was just beginning. Lovino was beat and slobbered on, and it seemed Spain was just getting warmed up for the finale.

_Antonio!, _Lovino wanted to cry, but was unable to move his lips, _Get your fucking ass over here!_

Finally, Antonio had caught the runner and held his arms, pinning him to the ground so he couldn't run. It was Lovino alright, but not his Lovino. The sight of this Romano was enough to bring Antonio to tears. He was bruised, and cut, and crying, and huffing, and scared. Lovino has been scared before, but Antonio had never seen this level of fright on anyone.

"No! Please!" Romano coughed, "No- I- I- I didn't- I'm sorr- Don't p- I swear I-!" The anguished pleads coming from Romano stopped Antonio's heart.

"Lo.. vino?"

Romano let out a howl and cowered. Antonio let him go and the Italian only lied there on the ground, hugging himself and sobbing. He attempted to crawl away, but jumped when Antonio grabbed his wrist. "No! Ah, please- don't go." Romano was too terrified to do anything else.

"Please," Antonio said softly. "Lovino. Tell me. Everything."

"I promis-se, I- M-Master I won't run- run away ag-gain-"

"Don't worry about that, querido, ssh. Just tell me." Romano didn't appear to feel like talking so Antonio explained his story first.

"...and I'm unfortunately not your Antonio. But I have to find my Lovi, whom I love very much, so we can go back together." He didn't expect to be spat on the face.

"You make me sick," Romano grumbled, his old self seeping back in through the tears. "You- you- you don't love me. You don't love. You can't love. You can just-" He coughed roughly.

"Ssh," Antonio whispered. "Please, Lovino. Please. Could you maybe just give me an idea of where my Lovi could- where he could be?" After some more coaxing, Romano finally let out the story of his sad, abusive life with the Master and the minions. Antonio was appalled.

"I- I- I did _that?_" He felt like puking as he looked over Romano's bumps and scars. "I- my God, what-"

Romano contemplated for a minute. This Antonio was just like his. Just a lot nicer. And more decent. But this was how his Antonio had been before his rise to power. Caring and sensitive; he still was, but now he was overwhelmed by insanity and supremacy. His simple mind probably just couldn't compute all the new emotions, so he became a dick instead of making the effort to stay the same. He probably didn't even realized he'd changed; what an idiot. Romano was scared of him, yes, but after being given the chance to think it over, he realized he still loved him.

"Come on," Romano said suddenly, a new, insistant tone in his voice. He stood up and held a hand out to Antonio.

"Que?"

"Well," he huffed, helping the lost Spaniard up, "We have to find your Lovino, don't we?"

(Que lazy and pathetically humourous ending!)

The magnificent doors burst open, revealing two dark figures. Everyone in the room stopped and stared, including Spain and Lovino. _Could it be..?_

It was.

Lovino would have jumped for joy- right into Antonio's arms- if he could actually move, but he couldn't.

Romano and Antonio stood in the doorway, pausing and posing for dramatic effect. After mentally counting to five, they stormed into the room, right in front of Lovino and the rapi- er, Spain.

"Let him go," Romano commanded. Spain looked dubious.

"_Two_ Lovinos? And another me? Well, this must be the happiest day of my life!"

"Not on my watch, _bitch_." Romano kicked Spain off of Lovino and in the same movement picked up the handcuffs, slapping them onto Spain's wrists. Lovino found he could move again and he jumped up, pulling on his pants and running to Antonio in a flash.

Unexpectedly, Romano sat right on Spain's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "You're an assfuck." Spain amd Lovino felt a bit of deja vu. Romano suddenly leant down and kissed Spain passionately. He hissed, "Now it's _my_ turn." Spain blushed, speechless, but excited.

"But you've gotta send them away first, big boy," Romano said, pointing a thumb behind him at the newly reunited alternate versions of himself and Spain. Antonio and Lovino suddenly braced themselves and excitedly recited the curse in their heads. It was the right move, because as soon as Romano said it, Spain jerked his handcuffed hands at the two and they were sent off into a spiralling nothingness.

And finally; Mr Vargas showed his Master how shit gets _done_.

* * *

><p>Hey there~! I apologize for this chapter taking super extra long, but it did so yeah.<p>

A review suggested something about demons or reversed roles, but honestly, the only word that I noticed was seme. Which sucks for you, because I can't/don't write sex, so I'll leave it to your imagination. But the idea did lead me to this chapter, so I'm happy. :D

Destination suggestions are appreciated! Alors, until next time (which I'm sure will be a lot shorter in the waiting factor). ...Yeah.


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